The Adventures of the Hero King Ganondorf
by CrAcKeRs oN CrAcK
Summary: In a strange twist of fate, Ganondorf was reborn into this life cycle as the son of the hero of Hyrule, Link. A series of oneshots following the life of Ganondorf as a hero, and his struggle with the memories of his past lives as the Demon King.
1. Fishing

The young Gerudo boy sat still by the shores of Lake Hylia, sharp blue eyes deep in concentration as his little fingers worked on tying the perfect fishing knot. Amongst the Gerudo children of his age group, he was known to be very talented and capable of picking up any new skill with ease. As a result, when he found himself faced with a task that he could not overcome without significant difficulty, he quickly became frustrated. One of those infuriating things happened to be everything and anything involved with fishing.

Sitting beside the young boy was his father, the man renown throughout Hyrule as its Hero. He silently observed the child as he bit his lip, determined to knot and set his own fishing line. Link knew well of the boy's temperament; he would not give up until he got the task right and did it with just as much ease as his father. As he watched his son struggle, the Hero could not help his thoughts as they drifted, reflecting over the oddity of the relationship he shared with the boy. The Gerudo had rejoiced that their precious male child had been born from the loins of the most worthy man in Hyrule, one that had earned the respect of the predominantly female tribe. However, both Link and Zelda had been shocked beyond words upon the birth of the boy, namely because of the distinctive mark on his hand. This was, without doubt, the boy who would grow to become the Demon King, Ganondorf.

Yet, this boy was also Link's son, destined to carry the blood of the hero within his veins. This Ganondorf was the living definition of irony.

Despite destiny and its oddities, Link could not help but consider this boy as his beloved son, and nothing more. He was energetic, rambunctious, and a little troublemaker. In many ways, Ganondorf was very much like Link. However, the Hero did not fail to realize that the boy had quite a temper, a signature trait of any bearer of Power. He could see it slowly flaring as the child's eyes burned with frustration, his fingers fumbling as if they wished to destroy the fishing rod and be done with the entire affair. Being his father, Link was determined not to see his son walk the same path of destruction as his ancestors. This activity was supposed to help calm the child, not fuel his anger.

"Shhh Ganny," Link whispered quietly as his hand carded through the boy's short, red hair. The boy blinked as if he was suddenly awakened from a trance. His eyes turned to Link, his face clearly showing just how frustrated he was that he was incapable of tying a simple knot. The Hero smiled in response; it would always be a little odd yet heart-warming to see that this Ganondorf, his son, had inherited his eyes.

"Why can't I do this Papa?" the child pouted as his gaze returned to the fishing rod. "I've tried a million times and it still doesn't work!" Link laughed in response as he crawled over to the child. Getting behind him, Link took hold of the boy's hands, guiding them towards the hook that still remained unknotted. Slowly, yet patiently, Link worked Ganondorf's little fingers, guiding them until the hook was perfectly knotted. Despite the help he had gotten, Link did not miss the gleam of happiness in the depths of the boy's blue eyes as he finally had the hook secured to the end of the fishing line.

"It's alright to ask for help when we can't do something ourselves Ganny," Link said as he let go of the child's hands. "It is much better than getting angry and breaking things. That never solves any problems." Although the lesson seemed simple, the Hero knew it was a very crucial one for the boy in question. The legacy of the Demon King was that of destruction after all. By tempering the child to calmly deal with smaller issues, Link hoped that it would translate to actions that would have larger consequences if the more pacifist route was not taken.

"I know Papa," Ganondorf replied with a grin. "See, I didn't break the fishing rod this time!" Link chuckled as he ruffled the boy's head, his smile widening as the child let go of his earlier frustration with the fishing knot. The boy quickly found himself on his feet, the rod secured in his hand as the hook dangled freely. He turned to his father, his grin brightening his youthful face as he shuffled impatiently in his place.

"C'mon Papa, let's go catch some fish!" the boy declared gleefully as he ran towards their usual fishing spot. Link shook his head, a happy sigh escaping his lips as he followed the energetic child. Whatever the matter was, Ganondorf was his son this time around. There was nothing that brought more joy to Link's heart than seeing the boy happy and free of worries, just like a child should be.


	2. Return

When the Gerudo guards had checked on their young prince's room and had found it empty, they simply informed his instructors of his absence before setting about on their daily routine. It was a great contrast to the reaction they had initially had when Ganondorf had inexplicably disappeared for the first time. It was thanks to Link's foresight on the matter, well acquainted with the restless spirit that was a signature trait of those possessing the blood of the Hero, that had stopped the Gerudo from sending out a search party to find him, or to hastily accuse a neighbouring kingdom of kidnapping their future king. His characteristic lazy smile on his face, he assured the desert women that the boy had simply answered the call that reverberated deep within his soul, and would be back soon enough. Link's words rang true when a little over a month later, the young Gerudo male had returned, donning the oversized green tunic he had snatched from his father's belongings and a jubilant smile on his face. That night was one of festivities as the boy recounted his journey into the land of the Gorons, aiding one of their folk which he swore was as big as a mountain itself and appropriately named Biggoron. In gratitude, he had been given a bracelet which granted him superhuman strength. Link, along with the rest of the Gerudo, had found themselves laughing as the child began lifting as many of the women as he possibly could, clearly pleased with his reward.

From then onwards, the Gerudo had gotten used to the boy's sporadic disappearances, reassured that he would return as the Hylian hero had promised. While Link was confident in Ganondorf's skills and the natural talent that came with possessing the Spirit of the Hero within him, he could not help but worry as any parent would. The Gerudo did not miss the lengthy amount of time Link would spend sitting on a cliff overlooking the entrance to the valley, his eyes ever vigilant as he awaited Ganondorf's return. After all, Link knew of the perils and tests that a destined Hero was prone to face. The thought that his young son, a boy who was meant to become king, had to face trials similar to those he had borne witness to was enough to make him restless.

That was not the only worry that Link held, however.

The Hylian hero was well aware of Ganondorf's true nature. When the boy was nearby, Link could sense Power sleeping deep within his very soul, biding its time until he was mature enough to wield its strength and shoulder the memories that came with it. Having been fathered by Link, it was inevitable that he would also inherit the Hero's spirit. It was fortunate that the Spirit of the Hero was such that it manifested itself in the child's youth. Yet, the Hylian hero was painfully aware of the fact that once the Gerudo boy would come of age, his memories and power of the Demon King would also return. At that point, the Spirit of the Hero would certainly be tempered well enough to be as integral to this Ganondorf as the fire of the Demon King that burned within his very being. He would have a difficult decision to make, that was for certain, but that was reserved for the future.

For now, Link's worries resided in certain trials meant for the Spirit of the Hero. While they were certainly difficult, they would always allow passage for the destined saviour of Hyrule. What if such tribulations detected the sleeping beast that was the Demon King within the young boy's soul, and doomed him to failure? Link could not bear to imagine what would happen if Ganondorf was suddenly killed, and the consequences that would follow not only for the Gerudo, but for the fabric of destiny as a whole with the premature death of the bearer of Power. It had certainly been a strange twist of fate that the one meant to be Demon Kin was born into the line of heroes. Perhaps that was what the Gods had intended, though Link could never be sure.

Link found himself becoming increasingly worried that his premonitions had proven true when his son did not return after his usual away period of a month. So far, his callings had been brief, aiding small tribes in nearby territories. The winds of fate that guided him were well aware of the fact that he was also destined to be the king of his tribe, and could not afford to be away for long. The Gerudo had begun to train the most capable female child, Nabooru, to fulfill the duties of the King once they had learned of his restless spirit. However, it was without a doubt that they wished to keep their king amongst their people for as long as he could stay. While Link merely continued to tell the Gerudo that Ganondorf would eventually return, he found himself becoming more restless with each passing day. As the second month came and passed, and the completion of the third month rapidly approached, Link found himself incapable of sleeping, his mind buzzing with the possible troubles the young boy could have ran into.

It was a little over a day after the third month of his disappearance that Link finally spotted the one thing he had been hoping to see for the longest time. Despite the exhaustion that sat heavy on his mind from many nights of forgone rest, he quickly found himself on his feet as he climbed down the cliff face. Link could not help but feel his heart soar as he spotted his son, the oversized green tunic hanging off his shoulders with his short sword and shield strapped to his back. The young boy stopped in his tracks, his bright blue eyes filled with curiosity as Link ran up to him, the Hylian's face lined with the stress caused by all the extra waiting. Link could not help but smile warmly as he rested his hand on his short, messy red hair, ruffling it affectionately. The boy looked up at him, a huge grin on his face.

"Papa, you look really tired." Ganondorf remarked as he tilted his head to the side in curiosity. Link chuckled in response, running his hand through his own hair as he took a moment to catch his breath. As a child, he had been prone to being nonchalant in the face of danger, not always very understanding of why so many people were concerned for him. He could easily surmise that this was the effect of Courage which had no doubt been passed to his son. Being a parent, and of such a high profile child nonetheless, had finally shown him why so many of his friends and dear ones would be so worried for him. It would take some time for the Gerudo child to learn this as well, no doubt.

"You had me worried Ganondorf," Link said, an easy smile on his face. "What took you so long this time?" The Gerudo boy's grin widened as his eyes shone. The Hylian laughed as he knew that look quite well; Ganondorf had had quite an adventure this time, and certainly had an intriguing story to tell. As they both began to walk towards their desert home, the young child could not wait as he began to excitedly tell his father of his newest experiences.

"So Papa, you know that there are people that live beneath the ground called the Subrosians…"

Ah yes, this would be quite the story indeed.


	3. Balance

The Desert Colossus, deep within the Gerudo Desert, served as bastion of spirituality and reflection in a land that was harsh and unforgiving. The denizens of the desert lands braved the journey through the searing heat of the sun and the monotony of sand upon sand, seeking its ancient walls and silent solitude in order to reflect upon the most delicate of life's decisions. It was not unusual to enter and find a figure kneeling before the great Desert Goddess, clothes battered by the desert winds with bronze, calloused hands raised in humility as they beseeched the divine beings for their blessings in a recent childbirth, or perhaps a newly forged relationship, or even deliverance from unfortunate circumstances.

Deep within the bowels of the Colossus, in a chamber sealed off for all except a select few, the Gerudo King and Lord of the Desert found himself kneeling, head bowed as his hands rested upon his knees. He was dressed in a simple black robe, having forgone all his jewels and ornate armor in a show of humbleness before the Goddess he revered. His crown had also been discarded, his lengthy hair falling onto his face as his eyes remained firmly shut, his mind clearly deep in thought.

He had a crucial decision to make, one that left quite a burden on his shoulders, one that would not only affect his life, but that of the entirety of Hyrule.

Even with his eyes closed, he could already envision the pedestal that stood before him. Sheathed within was a large sword, jagged and of a deep obsidian hue such that seemed to suck all the light from within its surroundings. An inverted version of the Triforce was embedded upon its hilt denoting its use in opposing the light and all those that represented it. It was the blade of the ancient Demon King, one that belonged to him by birthright as it had been for all of his previous lives.

 _"_ _Master…why do you hesitate….wield me and we shall bring our wrath upon Hyrule as our destiny dictates!"_

The Gerudo King sighed softly as he heard his blade call out to him. It seemed simple to walk upon the path he had trodden numerous times already. Darkness, while frightening to others, was a power that was familiar and almost comforting to him. Even in his pensive state, he could already feel the ease of summoning dark power to his fingertips, able to wield it with brutal power and efficacy. At the end of each lifetime, whether he met his end at the tip of the hero's blade or by other means, his blade returned to the desert awaiting its master's rebirth once more. All he had to do was retake what was his, summon his legions of beasts and creatures of darkness, and march upon Hyrule once more. With all the experience and knowledge he had farmed from his previous lives, he would be more powerful than ever before. He certainly had the upper hand.

However, on the other hand, the Gerudo had been granted a boon of fortune that they had previously never experienced before. The Queen, wielding Wisdom as was her birthright, had been the ruling monarch before he had been born into this cycle, and had successfully secured a treaty of peace and communication between Hyrule and the Gerudo lands. Their textile, clay, and glass products were selling quite well in Hyrule as the Hylians had developed a taste for exotic items. In exchange, their stores of food and wine were brimming with stock, so much so that the Gerudo begun to develop bodies that were full and healthy, a look that the King had never seen before amongst his people in any of his lives. Their profits were well enough that construction and repairs had begun throughout his kingdom. His lands teemed with a spirit that had never been present before, one that did not spell out death and suffering for his kind. With the free exchange occurring between the Gerudo and Hylians, cultural and racist barriers were slowly but surely being worn down. It was becoming more of a common sight each passing day to see a Gerudo woman bring her Hylian boyfriend to live within their desert home, or for a Gerudo to move into Hyrule proper and begin their own business with their profits. It was a slow process, but one that was steadily progressing.

While the Desert King was uncertain of whether he could ever rid himself of his desire for Hyrule, he knew that he also had a duty towards his people. He had seen past lives of his where he had been a lone Gerudo and the anguish that he felt upon being the only one of his kind. If his attempt to take Hyrule failed, his people would certainly suffer the consequences. He was certain the Goddesses would spite him by vanquishing the Gerudo permanently if he attempted to endanger his people in such a precarious manner. Thus, this was one reason why doubt clouded his mind.

The true reason for his uncertainty, however important the fate of his people were, rested on a pedestal next to the blade that he had wielded many times over.

 _"_ _Master…"_ a soft, feminine voice echoed throughout his thoughts.

 _"_ _Master…forge a new path this time…one that will assure you peace and prosperity…"_

The Gerudo King's eyes opened slowly, revealing their clear blue hue, as deep in depth as the sky itself. His head turned slowly as his gaze fell upon the blade that stood by the side of its dark counterpart, gleaming in the low light that permeated the chamber. This was the weapon that had brought about his downfall many times, the blade of evil's bane: the Master Sword.

The blade which, by some twisted farce of the Gods, was also his birthright.

The Gerudo King found his head bowed once more, hands clenching fistfuls of his robes at his knees as his eyes trained on the ground before him. Yes indeed, the Gods had intended to force him into a corner, had wanted to fool around with his fate and cast doubt on every decision he had to make regarding his path. Every time he looked into a mirror, or saw his reflection staring back at him, those intense blue eyes would stare right back at him, eyes that he was all too familiar with. It was quite often that he had to remind himself that those eyes belonged to him, and that he was merely seeing himself.

They were the eyes of the Hero, the man that also happened to be his father.

It would have been simple, in all reality, if his father had been hateful towards him. Both the Queen and the Hero had been aware of who he was upon birth, and could have easily had him killed, imprisoned, or shunned from society. Yet, his father had done nothing of the sort. Despite his duties towards Hyrule, he had remained in the desert and had helped raise him. Where the Gerudo trained him to become King, showing him the way of the blade and the knowledge of the ancient kings, his father showed him the simplicities and joys of life. The Gerudo King fondly remembered how his father had shown him how to catch a fish, had taught him how to swim, and had lain with him atop the fortress as they watched the stars for hours on end. Even with the eventual return of his memories and history with the Hero, the Desert King could never shake off the intense bond of love and trust he had built with the man who had fathered him.

The most baffling moment was when he had been crowned King. His father, being the Hero, had decided that now that his son was a man, it was his time to leave and travel beyond the lands of Hyrule as the Hero was wont to do. The Desert King could clearly recall the day as his father grasped his hands, the Gerudo being much too tall for him to grasp his shoulders, and telling him that he had left the Master Sword in the same place where his ancient blade rested. The Gerudo could not comprehend why his father would leave with him, the man destined to be Demon King, the only sword that could put an end to him. His father had merely smiled at the Gerudo's protests.

Perhaps he was the Demon King, but now the blood of the Hero also flowed through his veins. Ironically, once the Hero left Hyrule's borders, he would be the only one capable of wielding it.

 _"_ _Do not fret, my son…follows what feels right for you…I will not be angry with you, whatever you decide to do."_

He remembered watching his father leave, his figure shrinking in the distance as he disappeared, never to be seen again in this lifetime.

 _"_ _Hyrule's destiny is now in your hands, my son."_

The Gerudo King had taken a number of years as he thought upon what he would do. Having both the power to save Hyrule and destroy it was a situation that he never thought he would face. As he delved deeper into his thoughts, many nights of research came to the forefront of his mind. It seemed that neither darkness nor light had ever gained a distinctive advantage in the wars that constantly plagued Hyrule. When one ruled, it was always in danger of being overtaken by the other. Whether he chose to walk the path of the Demon King or that of the Hero, he knew that there was always the chance of him meeting his downfall because neither path guaranteed absolute victory.

The Desert King found his thoughts returning to that of his people. For so many years, so many lifetimes, they had been shunned and cast aside. It had always been "them" and "us", two different people with different values that would always be at odds with each other. Yet, with the efforts of the Hylian queen and his Gerudo council, both people were slowly becoming "we" as they begun to realize that, at the end, differences aside, they were just all people trying to survive through the journey that was life. They were reaching a middle ground, a balance that had never existed before.

 _Balance._

Resolute, the Desert King unfolded himself from his position as he rose to his full height. His eyes gleamed in the low firelight the torches gave off, the determination within them all too similar to those that had existed within the man from who he had inherited them. He could sense the spirits within both blades shiver in anticipation, each one certain that he would chose them. A serene smile appeared upon his lips as he strode towards the blades.

Today, no one would be left disappointed.

The Gerudo gritted his teeth as he grasped the handle of both blades within his hands. Light and darkness fought within his very core, one trying to overtake the other as they were meant to do. The Gerudo focused his energy, pouring all his concentration and power into both the blood of the Demon King and the Hero that ran hot through his veins. The only way for everyone to find peace, for everyone to find some sort of happiness was with _balance_ and _compromise_.

Light and darkness were both a part of him, and he could not bring himself to shun one for the other. They would learn to coexist, just like his people and the Hylians were slowly working towards.

 _"_ _Be at peace."_

The Gerudo King suddenly felt the warring power within him come to a standstill, darkness and light both going silent within his very being. He blinked, almost in awe as he could almost perceive darkness and light like two calm pools of pure energy sitting together side by side. He became aware of his labored breath, the sweat steadily trickling down the side of his forehead from the mental and magical exertion it had taken to hold both blades in his hands. He grinned, almost mischievously, as he felt the spirits within the blades bristle with annoyance at having to coexist as their Master desired.

He held up both blades, his smile widening. It would certainly take a lot of effort on his part to continue keeping peace between both the darkness and light within him. However, for the sake of his people, his father, and most importantly, himself, he would have to try.

If the Gerudo and the Hylians could do it, then so could the light and darkness.


	4. Conflict

Nabooru snorted in her sleep as a cold breeze swept across her back, disturbing what had been a peaceful rest so far. Groaning in annoyance, she blindly grabbed for the blanket, wrapping its soft wool about herself snuggly. With a sigh of content, she settled herself into the pillows, her eyes closing firmly as she attempted to continue her sleep before it had been so rudely interrupted by the unruly elements of a cold desert night. It was only a moment later that her eyes snapped open in realization, noting that she had a bit more blanket to herself than she should have normally possessed given that two people were supposed to be sleeping in this bed. Yawning, she pushed herself up on one arm, her gaze flitting to her side as she confirmed what she had suspected; Ganondorf was not in bed yet again.

"At this rate, he is going to collapse from sleep deprivation," Nabooru grumbled under her breath as she stood up, draping the blanket across her shoulders. Without much thought, her bare feet pattered across the room and into the hallway of the Gerudo Fortress, taking her to the rooftop. That was where he had been sitting for the past few nights, after all. As she ascended the stairs Ganondorf came into view, his back to her as he sat cross legged with a very distinctive sword held still in his hand. Nabooru made a sucking sound with her teeth, alerting Ganondorf of her presence. He turned his head, his eyes meeting the disgruntled and tired face of his Second and his best friend.

"Seriously, what is your problem? You can't keep losing sleep over this." Nabooru said, voice laced with annoyance as she came to stand beside his seated form. His gaze had returned to the sword in his hand, deep in thought. The Gerudo did not miss the dark rings forming under her King's eyes from his lack of adequate rest. Sighing, she plopped herself down beside him. Perhaps she was letting her irritation get in the way of good judgement. After all, Ganondorf was amongst the most unique kings the Gerudo had ever been blessed with, being the son of the Hero. In fact, despite his young age, he already had several notable accomplishments under his belt due to the spirit he had inherited from his father. He was renown throughout Hyrule as the "Hero King" for this very reason, having finally portrayed the Gerudo tribe as a whole in a good light for the first time in Hylian history. At face value, Ganondorf should have been rather proud of all he had done so far during his reign. Yet, Nabooru knew, there were other problems that laid beneath the surface that her King internally struggled with on a daily basis.

"Alright Ganondorf," Nabooru began as she turned to look at him, "let's try and air out your concerns. First and foremost, why do you feel that you are unworthy of wielding the Master Sword?" Her eyes glanced over to the blade he held in his hand, noting its distinctive features. "It's pretty clear that your father left it to you because he knew deserved it. If I'm not mistaken, only those truly possessing the Spirit of the Hero can actually wield it." Nabooru watched as her King exhaled loudly, his shoulders sagging as his grip tightened on the hilt of the holy blade.

"It's not so much about wielding the blade itself than the connotations that come along with it Nabs," he said quietly as he finally turned his head. His sharp blue gaze met hers, uncertainty wavering in their depths. Nabooru chose to remain silent as she stared right back at him, silently beckoning him to continue.

"In all of my past lives, I was the Demon King," he began as his eyes turned to the sky. "I can almost see every memory clearly, and can feel the hatred that ran though my bones at those moments in time." He closed his eyes, as if he were viewing the very images in his head as he spoke. "However, I can also see that in those lives, I did not set about my ways of destruction for no reason. There was always something, a trigger…" His eyes fluttered open as his gaze fell on the full moon that hung on the sky, having gone silent .It was the gentle hand that laid itself upon his own that snapped him out of his thoughts.

"In those lives, you set out for Hyrule because of the suffering the Gerudo had to endure," Nabooru said softly, "though of course, being the bearer of Power, the sole ability to conquer and rise above all must have also been very appealing." Ganondorf frowned as he listened to his Second. Ever since his memories as Demon King had returned, the urge to crush all those that stood before him brimmed beneath his skin. While he could argue in the past that he had a reason to act on this urge, such reasons were largely absent in this life. Zelda had been born long before him in this lifetime, and had taken the steps to ensure an ever strengthening relationship between the Gerudo and the Hylians. Couple that with his feats as a Hero in his own right, and he was arguably in the most comfortable situation he had ever been in his existence in regards to his people. There was no reason for him to feel this way.

"Even though everything is well in this lifetime, I still have this urge inside of me to conquer Hyrule. The conditions are all in my favour after all," he said quietly as he stared accusingly at the blade before him. "How could I, the man destined to be Demon King, be suddenly saddled with the Spirit of the Hero? What were the Goddesses thinking, allowing me to be born to the Hero of all people!?" Frustration took hold of his form as he dropped the sword by his side, his hands grabbing onto his hair. "In the day, I take up my blade to ward off monsters from this land and bring hope to the people, while I lay down at night thinking of how simple it would be to resurrect my armies and march onto Hyrule Castle. The Queen is advanced in age and my father is not there to stop me." His grip on his hair tightened as the two conflicting spirits, that of the Hero and that of the Demon King, fought brutally for control within his mind. He was certain he would go insane one day. Perhaps taking up both the Master Sword and the Demon King's blade had been a horrid idea. How could he hope to master two roles that were absolutely contradictory in nature? He had certainly not thought this through properly.

Two hands came to rest upon his own, gently prying his hands away from the painful grip he had on his own head. Nabooru smoothed out the errant hairs on his head, before cupping his face in her hands. She turned his head until they were face to face, his expression distraught and his eyes weary. She gazed at him for a while, her eyes silently telling him to calm down and clear his mind. Ganondorf blinked a couple of times before he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he tried to put himself at ease.

"I'm not an expert at this destiny stuff," Nabooru began as she ran her thumb soothingly along his cheek, "but even I would think that mastering both roles would be impossible, just based on the principle of the whole matter." Ganondorf sighed as his eyes fell on his lap, his fists clenching at his side. His Second had basically confirmed what he had already dreadfully concluded, and that did not comfort him at all in regards to his fate. Noticing that was growing tense once more, Nabooru coaxed him to look at her again.

"Let me finish before you get your panties in a wad Gan," Nabooru interjected before he could say anything. Ganondorf could not help but grin; he could always count on Nabooru to throw in sarcastic remarks, no matter how dire the situation. "Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that maybe the Goddesses didn't intend for you to master both, or pick one even. Picking one would be pretty unfair to the other side if you ask me, in fact. A Hero without the Demon King or a Demon King without the Hero is pretty much a free pass for whichever side you choose, and I really doubt the Goddesses operate that way." The Gerudo King could not help but laugh at the final remark; it sounded rather similar to the arguments they would have when they would play games as children. Apparently, any side the little hero prince was on was unfair to the other team back then. However, as he thought on the matter, as rudimentary as it sounded, he wondered if Nabooru had a point. His eyes went back to the blade that rested beside him; it was true that only one hero could wield it, and he was wielding it, wasn't he?

"Maybe…" Ganondorf started as he took the blade into his hand, Nabooru releasing him in the process. He could see his reflection in the blade, his own eyes, his father's eyes, staring right back at him. He could also feel the spirit of the Demon King bristle within him; those eyes had once been those of his enemy in lives long past. The Demon King's blade was safely stashed in his room, its blade much more comfortable in his hand without a doubt after wielding it so many times over so many lives. However, he had spent his youth tempering the hero's spirit within him, and it was something that he also closely identified with now.

"Maybe the Goddesses intend to take Hyrule's future in a different direction…" the Gerudo King murmured as he observed his reflection. Nabooru chuckled as she patted his shoulder in a friendly gesture.

"Maybe they're ready to just let you be Ganondorf for once, instead of forcing you into some role or another," she suggested with a grin on her face. The Gerudo King chuckled at her response, his heart feeling significantly lighter after their conversation. Nabooru had been raised along with him, having trained and learned the duties of the King as she took charge of ruling the Gerudo when he was away. He should have known she would be the one to help ease his mind instead of losing sleep over his thoughts for all these nights. Ganondorf was truly grateful that he had such a trustworthy companion by his side, one he could trust with his life if need be.

Perhaps Nabooru was right. Perhaps the Goddesses wanted him to build a new identity, free of the constraints of the Hero and the Demon King, free of this relentless cycle of destruction.

"I suppose we should head to bed Nabs," Ganondorf declared as he found himself on his feet, the Master Sword in his hand. He offered his free hand to her, which she graciously accepted. Back on her feet, she wrapped her blanket tighter around her as she let out a sigh of relief.

"About time! Since you've missed out on so much sleep, you'll probably sleep in even later than usual," Nabooru commented as she made her way towards the stairs. Ganondorf's grin widened as he followed behind her; once he was tired enough to sleep, he certainly did enjoy getting as much of it as possible. He supposed he inherited that little trait from his father. It had always been difficult for Link to get out of bed on time, and Ganondorf was no different in that regard.

As he found himself in his bed, Nabooru already snoring by his side, he could not help but feel somewhat optimistic. He turned his head, his eyes falling on the Master Sword and the Demon King's blade hanging on his wall side by side. Perhaps this is where the everlasting war between the three bearers would finally end, with the line of the Demon King and the Hero permanently merged into one. As his eyes fell shut, he could feel the familiar hum of the Spirit of the Hero reverberating through his being, calling him. A smirk quirked at his lips as he turned onto his side; the timing could not have been mere coincidence, he was convinced.

Maybe this next journey would finally yield the answers to all his questions.


	5. The Raft

Rafton had always lived on the edge of the sea, spending hours upon hours perfecting the art of building small, yet durable rafts. At the moment, any long term sea travel could only be accomplished by the use of large sea vessels. Small boats were only reserved for short trips over a lake or river. Despite his youth, Rafton hoped to be the first to design small boats that could be used for a single person on a journey across the ocean. Those who had a knack for adventure would certainly appreciate such an invention, he could imagine.

However, try as he might, Rafton's many attempts had failed. His rafts could not hold up to the salinity of the water for long haul trips. If he found a material that could withstand the waters, then his problem came with such a small boat being able to cut through powerful waves and the rage that the sea no doubt held. As he scraped models and repeatedly ran test trials, he finally was able to design a model that he was very sure would hold up. However, there was one major flaw with this design in particular.

The raft required rope to be held securely together. He needed rope that would not decay in water, and that, in his knowledge, did not exist as of yet. He was a builder, not an inventor, and so such a material did not seem obtainable for him.

Disheartened, he thought about abandoning this farfetched dream of his, and perhaps moving into Castle Town to find a proper job. He was a still a young man, and could take up an apprenticeship with a blacksmith or baker. He could certainly continue to build small boats for short trips up rivers and lakes, but he felt that it would constantly be a reminder of his failure. On one evening, he had finally set his heart on packing up his belongings and leaving the seaside for Hyrule proper. It was time to move on and begin life anew, he had convinced himself.

That night, Rafton had a strange dream. He found himself standing at the threshold of his small cabin as a small figure, presumably a child, walked towards him. Behind the child was a beacon of light that brought an inexplicable feeling of elation and hope to his heart. Yet, as the boy continued to come closer, a palpable shadow of darkness seemed to intermingle with the light, bringing fear and despair in its wake. The young man could not take his eyes off the oddity of what he was seeing as the darkness did not overpower the light, nor did the light overpower the darkness. It was as if they were coexisting together. He found himself feeling the same way as the child approached, unsure whether to welcome or flee from the boy. Finally, the child came to a stop in front of him. Clad in a tunic that was much too large for him, the red-haired boy looked up at him, his intense blue eyes filled with determination. He handed him an unexpected yet fantastical gift; rope that did not decay underwater.

It was then that Rafton woke up, and found himself in his bed. Blinking, his head turned to the window in his small bedroom, noticing that it was still night time. He took a deep breath as his forearm came to rest across his forehead. What a strange dream that was, that a boy of all people would bring him what he needed! It must have been a sign that he had become a bit too obsessive with his dream, and that it was time to let go. It made his resolve stronger to leave this place and find himself a new career.

Yet, for some reason, as Rafton woke up that morning, there was a feeling deep in his heart that told him to wait. As he tried to set these odd thoughts aside and began to pack a couple of his things, the feeling grew stronger to the point where it almost became unbearable. Sighing, he halted his preparations. Perhaps he should follow his intuition for now and remain a little longer. After all, the seaside is what he had known all his life. He could continue to work on the large sea vessels that arrived at port and build small, temporary boats. It was a much safer bet than venturing into an unknown area, that was for sure.

It had been a little over a month later, as Rafton was preparing his breakfast before heading out for the day, that he heard someone knocking at his door. Wondering who in this village would come to visit him this early in the morning, he went and opened his door. He found himself stumbling back, eyes wide in shock as he was staring at a young boy with red hair and blue eyes, donning an oversized green tunic. Seeing the young man's reaction, the child could not help but giggle, his eyes shining in mirth.

"Are you Rafton by any chance?" the boy asked, a grin on his face. Rafton could not help but blink, his heart hammering hard in his chest. This was the exact same kid he had seen in his dream! Could it be possible? Could this child have the one thing that kept him from fulfilling his ultimate dream?

"Do…do you have it?" Rafton stuttered instinctively, still trying to get over his shock. He only realized that his question was rather vague when the boy gave him an inquisitive look. The child rocked back and forward on his heels, apparently thinking about something. He suddenly stopped, his mischievous grin returning to his youthful face as he looked at the young raft builder.

"I need a raft to travel to the nearby isles," the boy explained. "I was told by everyone around here that you were the one to ask." Rafton, hearing the child's inquiry, finally got a hold of himself. He took a moment to take in the boy and what he was implying. Judging from the bright red hair and tan skin, he would assume the boy was from the desert, possibly a Gerudo. He was sure that the Gerudo were a tribe consisting only of women though. He supposed the boy could have easily been from a seafaring tribe as well; the people living by the ocean were prone to deep tans after all. Besides that oddity, what the kid was suggesting was somewhat ludicrous. He could not be older than seven or eight years old. How could this boy want to take a raft and take a precarious journey alone across the sea? As the older person between the two, he should have not let this child entertain such dangerous ideas.

Then again, he recalled his dream. This was the same boy, there was absolutely no doubt. He had often heard of Hyrule's queen and her prophetic dreams. Perhaps he had experienced something similar? This had to be a meeting of fate, he was sure of it! It could not be mere coincidence!

"Ah yes, I am Rafton, and I do build rafts," he began. "However, if you need a vessel to travel the isles, I'm afraid I don't really have one for you that can. It may take you to one isle before it is rendered useless." The child's face fell for a moment in thought before his eyes brightened again in realization.

"Yeah, everyone in town was telling me that you were building a raft that could carry people across the ocean like a big ship could, but that you were missing rope that would not decay in water." Saying this, the boy reached into a pouch hanging by his waist. Rafton watched in awe as he managed to pull out a large amount of rope from the little satchel as if it were magic. He smiled as he held the rope out to the young raft builder, his face full of confidence.

"A while back, I helped this inventor named Cheval get rid of some pesky moblins that were surrounding his house," the boy explained. "As a reward, he gave me a sample of his newest invention; rope that doesn't rot in water! He said that since I travel a lot, I would probably be the best person to test if it works." Rafton's mouth hung open in surprise as his eyes fell on the object the kid was handing him. He could not believe that his dream and his intuition had proven to be correct. Could this really be what he sought? Could his invention and dreams finally become a reality?

It was almost on instinct that Rafton scooped the young child in his arms, giving him the hardest hug he had ever given anyone in a while. The boy squirmed as he laughed in his ear, amused with his reaction. Rafton could feel that there was something special about this kid, those conflicting feelings of happiness and fear he had experienced in his dream reappearing for the briefest of moments. However, that was crushed by the complete elation that filled his chest at finally being able to build the vessel that was the culmination of all his greatest efforts.

"This is exactly what I needed to complete my raft!" Rafton exclaimed as he put the child down. "As thanks, you will be the first one to try it out and keep it, free of charge!" The boy grinned, happy that Rafton was able to pull through for him. Having his own vessel to travel would make things much easier and faster than always having to hitch a ride on a larger ship. Rafton looked down at the boy, unable to hide his expression of pure joy.

"What is your name kid? I should thank you properly." Rafton said, a wide smile stretching across his face. The boy smiled just as big in return, clearly happy that he had gotten the raft builder what he needed, and would get a free vessel in return.

"My name is Ganny!" the child said with a smile. His Papa had told him to never share his real name with anyone just yet. Apparently people knew that a boy named Ganondorf was the prince of the Gerudo, and that information was better kept secret. No one would ever guess that the Gerudo prince was out and about travelling, after all, especially as a hero. The Gerudo kings had a certain reputation for becoming demon kings after all.

Rafton chuckled as he patted the boy's head. It was then he took acute notice of the sword and shield he had strapped to his back, just the right size for him to wield. Even though he still had his doubts on allowing a little kid to go off on his own, he had a feeling that everything would be alright. Ganny had said he had taken down moblins to receive this precious reward, did he not?

"Alright Ganny, just give me a couple of days to build and test run this thing, and it's all yours!"

* * *

The first long haul raft Rafton had built proved to be a complete success. The boy had travelled all the isles and had returned with the vessel in excellent shape. Though Rafton insisted he keep it, Ganny was adamant that he didn't really need it where he was going. On the other hand, by being provided with the specialized rope, Rafton was capable of duplicating the result, and built several rafts. It turned out that many people were interested in these small vessels that could make long journeys across the ocean. As the years trickled by, he had established a very successful business around building these small boats. That dream had indeed been a prophetic one; he could have never hoped for such an unprecedented outcome had he decided to leave and find something else.

On the other hand, stories began to trickle into his village of a young boy with hair as bright as fire and eyes as cool as ice that was a skilled warrior. He heard tales of great beasts being felled by the little hero, and of the various ways in which he helped regular people. Rafton could not help but smile knowingly as he listened to these tales; after all, the kid had brought joy into his life by making him so successful in the pursuit of his dreams. He would have loved to have gone and thanked the boy, who he was certain was a man now, personally, but had failed to ask him from where he hailed. He was still sure the child was from the desert, given some of his distinct features, but to take such a precarious journey into a land known for its brutal warriors would be foolhardy at best. Rafton could only hope that someday he would pass through their village again so that he could thank him properly.

As Rafton was filling out orders for new rafts at home, a knock came at his door. He sighed; he had specifically told the workers at the building site not to disturb him as he would come over there himself later. Perhaps it was an emergency, as he knew the workers were good, responsible men. As he opened the door, he found himself staring into the chest of a rather large man. Blinking in surprise, he tilted his head upward, meeting the man's intense blue gaze. His hair was long and fiery, tied back and braided, and his fitted black tunic showed off the powerful body that he bolstered. Along the gauntlets and boots that he donned was cloth that the bore distinct patterns that Rafton immediately pinned as being Gerudo in origin. What gave away the fact that he was a Gerudo was the topaz jewel that rested on his forehead, an ornament only the desert folk wore as far as he knew. Slung across his back were two blades, one that was obsidian black and another with a brilliant white blade. Yet, as Rafton looked into this large man's eyes, he could sense the familiarity behind that gaze. He knew who this man was.

"Ganny?" Rafton inquired in awe. The man let out a deep laugh, though its pacing and tempo were very much alike to the little boy that had come seeking his help years ago. This was indeed the same person; who would have thought that the child would grow up to become this giant of a man that stood before him?

"It is good that you still remember me Rafton," he chuckled. "Though, I would prefer that you now call me Ganondorf. That is my proper name." The raft builder felt his eyes go as wide as saucers as he heard the name; this was the Gerudo King, famously known as the Hero King in Hyrule Proper. Rafton's guess had proven to be correct regarding his origins, though he would have never imagined that the wandering child would have been royalty. It wasn't very often that princes and princesses were permitted to wander off, let alone take a precarious journey by themselves.

"I…I am very surprised. I mean, you've really grown into quite the man I must say. " Rafton said, still very shocked with what he was seeing. "Please do come in though; you are quite welcome here, your Majesty." The Gerudo simply laughed at the title as he bent his head, passing through the doorway and into the raft builder's home. Rafton could still not get over how large this man was as the top of his head grazed the ceiling of his home. The little boy that he had so easily scooped up in his arms years ago was now a warrior that could probably crush his skull within his fist without much effort.

"I won't keep you for too long Rafton, as I can see you are rather busy," Ganondorf said as he scratched his beard in thought. "I came by to see if I could purchase one of your vessels again, as the last one I used was rather nifty I must say. This journey is going to be taking a while so I believe I will be keeping this one permanently this time." Rafton, upon hearing this, laughed as he gave the large man a playful nudge against his muscled arm.

"You talk as if I would mind! You are the very reason I have been so successful!" Rafton exclaimed as he pulled the man towards his kitchen. "I never had the opportunity to properly thank you. I had even considered seeking you out, though I never knew where I should even start to look for you. I never imagined that you would actually be the king of the Gerudo, of all people!" Ganondorf grinned as he stood inside the kitchen, watching the raft builder shuffle along as he prepared tea and offered him some biscuits and sweets to eat which he accepted without much complaint. He had always had a sweet tooth after all.

"Yes, well, at the time I erred on the side of caution when it came to revealing my true identity," Ganondorf answered as he took the teacup being handed to him by the raft builder. "Not many people are fond of the Gerudo, though I believe their perception is slowly changing." Rafton found himself agreeing with the Gerudo man; he had done well in keeping his true origin to himself as he would have been targeted for that sole reason. Though, as the accomplishments of the man before him spread far and wide throughout the land, he knew that the people had begun to see the Gerudo in a better light. He supposed the leader of a people had the influence to leave such an impression regarding his tribe.

"If you don't mind me asking," Rafton said as he took a sip of tea from his own cup, "if you are King, how is it that you are travelling alone and for so long?" Ganondorf looked thoughtful for a moment, nibbling on a cookie as he deliberated his answer. He sighed longingly as he finished the treat, and looked at the raft builder.

"I guess the best way I could say this is that I'm not really like any other king," the Gerudo explained. "I am saddled with other responsibilities due to my lineage. I am undertaking this very journey to sort out these…responsibilities, in fact. I have an excellent Second in Command however, and she handles the affairs of the Gerudo while I am away." With that, the Gerudo fell silent once more, taking a deep drink from his tea cup. Rafton could tell that he was done divulging any more information. He found himself thinking about the dream he had years ago, and of the light and darkness that had followed Ganondorf in his wake. For some reason, he had a feeling that it had a lot to do with this man's journey, though he decided to keep that to himself. He did not wish to make the man uncomfortable or angry by prying into his personal business.

After they had finished their snack, Rafton took the Gerudo King out to the docks, where he gave him the best of his rafts, and the biggest one he could find of course. Despite Ganondorf insisting that he pay him, the raft builder refused to accept it. This would be his thanks to the man for helping him fulfill his dream, he had told him. With a shake of his head, the Gerudo accepted the gift without further complaint. Once the vessel was loaded with his belongings and his two distinct, yet unusual swords, he hoped onto the raft and looked at Rafton with a grin. He was ready to depart it seemed.

"I wish you safety upon your journey," Rafton said with a nod. "Hopefully, you will find what you seek." Ganondorf simply waved in thanks as he set the raft and its sail, giving it the push it needed to begin its trip across the water. As the raft builder watched from the shoreline, he honestly wished the man would find what he sought, just like he had found his own calling in fulfilling his own dreams. After all, for someone who made it his business to help everyone in being a hero and a king, he probably deserved it more than anyone else.


End file.
